


Diplomatic Ties

by felandaris



Series: Ever After [1]
Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age - All Media Types, Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: Chair Sex, Consensual Sex, Cullenlingus, Explicit Sexual Content, F/M, Fluff and Smut, Foot Massage, Heterosexual Sex, Humor, Innuendo, Love, M/M, Oral Sex, Post-Canon, Romance, Sexual Humor, Sexual Tension, Shameless Smut, Sparring, Swordplay, Threesome, Threesome - F/M/M, Ultimate Sacrifice
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-01-24
Updated: 2015-04-24
Packaged: 2018-03-08 22:00:47
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 11,700
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3225017
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/felandaris/pseuds/felandaris
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>After all she's done for him and Thedas, Cullen wants to give the Inquisitor a most special present...<br/>The original Cullen-Quizzie-Alistair sandwich- now with art and bonus chapter :)<br/>Originally posted 24 Jan 2015, finished 16 Feb. Bonus chapter added in April. Because I just had to.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Proposal

**Author's Note:**

> So this is it- part 1 of the Cullenstair/Inquisitor fic, the first of its kind. (Oh, I did search. A lot.)  
> Set post-DA:I with King Alistair ruling alone since his lover made the Ultimate Sacrifice.  
> Intentionally nondescript Inquisitor- picture her as you like.  
> There will be a fierce amount of smut (though hopefully all true to the characters). NSWF, explicit and juicy. You've been warned. Enjoy.

Trevelyan was relieved. Reasonably happy even. The day had been much less of a headache than she'd feared.

In the four months since the Inquisition had defeated Corypheus, she’d been just as busy as when the sky was still torn open, if not more so. Except saving the world seemed to have been child’s play in comparison. 

Instead of fighting demons, Venatori or Darkspawn, the Inquisition was now engaged in restoring peace, which meant Trevelyan had been pushed into a politician’s role. Despite being of noble birth herself, this wasn’t her strong suit, and she’d felt almost more overwhelmed than when she had initially been called the Herald of Andraste. Nobles and tradespeople of various ranks and races had been requesting meetings with her, whether to seek political support, mediation, or to simply bask in the Inquisition’s glory. Not to mention the odd marriage proposal.

Her days- and those of her staff- appeared to consist of a never-ending sequence of meetings, negotiations, and receptions. Talk, smile, nod. Rinse and repeat. She probably would have been unable to sit through even half of the appointments to date, and would have ended up offending Maker knows what kinds of important allies, had it not been for the unfaltering support and encouragement of her advisors, who were always at her side.

Two of her advisors, anyway- unlike Leliana and Josephine, her commander appeared to hold just as little enthusiasm for diplomacy as she did. It wasn’t obvious to everyone, but if she paid attention to him long enough, an irritated clench of his fist or a quick movement of his eyes towards the ceiling at some particularly annoying encounter was all it took for her to know his patience was wearing thin.

Of course, that wasn’t why she would seek the commander’s eyes across the war room. It was more to catch a quick glance, a half-smile or some other little gesture. Now that their relationship didn’t present an immediate risk to security as it had during war times, they hadn’t been as rigorous about keeping it secret (as much as anything could ever be kept secret at Skyhold, of course). Now and then, her hand would brush against his, or he would walk just a little too close to her to just be an advisor. They enjoyed these little moments of freedom, feeling that they’d earned them.

There were, of course, times, when even these minute displays of affection were inappropriate- usually when they were risking snide comments from the smug, obnoxious types that seemed to populate much of the ranks of nobles across Thedas.

Which brought her trail of thought back to how surprisingly well the day had gone. Despite Leliana’s reassurance, she’d been worried about the three-day visit of this particular guest. It could have been due to his title- it was a rare thing for Skyhold to host someone of his magnitude, and the place had been bustling for days with preparations. With all this build-up, she’d expected another pompous idiot, far too confident and with a giant stick up his rear end.

She couldn’t have been more surprised when King Alistair had turned out to be gentle, unpretentious and down-to-earth, with a sharp wit and a smile for even the lowest of servants. At their negotiations today, his demands had been more than reasonable, and they’d reached agreements on all points. She’d had to laugh out loud several times at his banter with Leliana and some of the references he’d made to mutual acquaintances, such as the sorceress, Morrigan. For once she was looking forward to dinner, as it was promising not to be a terribly dull affair this time. 

Despite all the preparations that had been made for a lavish banquet, the king had insisted on having a low-key meal at the tavern, where she was headed now. _Truly a man of the people_ , she’d thought. As she walked in, her advisors and most of her companions were already seated around a long table, waiting for His Majesty to arrive. Even Cullen was there, who had become quite adept at making excuses to avoid the evening entertainment. Smiling at the round of people, she gave his thigh an affectionate squeeze as she sat down beside him.

The king and his notably small entourage arrived, and it was indeed a light-hearted gathering with rustic food, local ale, plenty of stories and lots of laughter. Whether it was the king’s own tale of how the dwarf Oghren had once managed to scare off an unfortunate thief using just his brewery breath, or Varric’s account of how His Majesty had appeared like a stammering little boy under the frightening stare of the equally frightening Knight-Commander Meredith- Trevelyan and her companions were very much enjoying the evening. Even her military advisor couldn’t stifle a couple of heartfelt laughs, the sight of which made her particularly happy. 

Cullen did get up to leave eventually, citing reports he still had to review. As he got up, he half-bowed towards their guest. “I trust Your Majesty will keep the Lady Inquisitor and her party thoroughly entertained in my absence”, he said with a rare mischievous glint in his eyes. As the table broke out in laughter and cheers, Trevelyan smiled up at her lover and was rewarded with one of those smirks he seemed to reserve just for her. “See you soon”, she mouthed before he turned to walk out the door.  
______________________________________

Later that night she was riding him, hard and fast. It helped her unwind and get the stress out of her system. He recognized this and was only too happy to oblige.  


Lying on his bed, he had one arm behind his head and one hand on her hip as he watched her slide up and down with her hands behind her on his thighs, her hair tousled, eyes half-closed. His breathing was almost as ragged as hers, but he wasn’t yet responding to her movements. For the moment he was happy just watching her fuck him, breasts bouncing up and down as her body swallowed up his length over and over.

Sensing she was close, Cullen unfolded his arm from behind his head, bringing it to his face. Making sure she was watching, he licked two of his fingers, one by one, slowly and deliberately, then moved them up to where they were joined.

Her head dropped back in anticipation, and it wasn’t long before his deft little movements had her shuddering, falling forward onto his chest with a low, drawn-out moan.

It was then that he grabbed both of her hips and started thrusting into her in short, quick stabs as she was still lying down, holding onto his shoulders and whimpering incomprehensibly.

He came with a groan, moving his hips a few more times before he too melted into the sheets, spent.

Afterwards they were lying in each other’s arms, Trevelyan drawing circles on his chest and Cullen breathing in her scent through her hair.

“You know”, he said after a while, half-smile on his face, “I saw the way you were looking at him today.”

“What”, Trevelyan gasped in shock. Half of her felt caught while the other half was wondering exactly what her offense had been.

“King Alistair”, Cullen added.

“What do you mean?” She lifted her head to look at him, almost offended now, and very confused. Was he revealing a jealous side she hadn’t noticed before?

Cullen winced slightly at her reaction, wishing he’d chosen his words more carefully. Hs sat up so he could look at her properly. “I’m sorry, I-I really didn’t mean to imply… I…”, he stuttered helplessly.

“Then what _were_ you meaning to say?” she offered, eager to get this out in the open.

Brushing his fingers along the side of her face, he tried again. “You like him, don’t you?” he said, his eyes warm with affection. As she opened her mouth in protest, he quickly added, “I do too, he’s a nice fellow. Far more agreeable than most of these pretentious arses”, she chuckled at his choice of words, “and I admire him for what he’s done for my country.” His tone softened as he continued, “I mean, if it weren’t for him and the Hero of Ferelden, we might never have- I might not even…” Trevelyan nestled her face into his chest and wrapped her arms around his back, holding him close as his voice trailed off. She’d heard all about Cullen’s suffering at Kinloch Hold, knew how it had changed him and was aware of how it still haunted him. While she couldn’t have been happier (and more proud!) that his withdrawal symptoms were finally improving, she knew that his past would always be a part of him. She didn’t love him any less for it and made sure he knew that.

_At the same time, though…_

“Why were you asking if _I_ liked him, then?”

Cullen’s gaze dropped towards the sheets, and he began rubbing the back of his neck nervously. Trevelyan sat up in front of him, the cotton blanket falling off her shoulders. _Now_ she was intrigued.

“How do I say this?” Curious as to how indeed he would, she raised an eyebrow. “The three of us- could you… I mean, would you…”

Trevelyan’s mouth fell open, her eyes wide in disbelief. “Cullen, what in the Maker’s name are you suggesting?”

He began to speak but stopped before he actually did offend her with more of his gibberish. Straightening his back against the headboard, he dragged the blanket back up over her shoulders to keep her warm as the heat of their lovemaking was slowly wearing off. He then took her hands into his. Taking one more deep breath before he spoke, he looked into those endlessly deep eyes of hers. His voice was soft and sincere, almost solemn.

“I love you, with every bit of my soul. Loving you helped me gather the strength to make it through this addiction. I owe my sanity, _my life_ , to that love”, he briefly looked down at the sheets then up at her again, “… to you”. Trevelyan’s hands were shaking in his, and she was trying hard not to blink to keep the tears in. “When this is all over, you know I’d love for us to… settle down, right?” She was smiling now, nodding eagerly as a single tear escaped down her cheek.

“Until then, I want to use every possible opportunity to show my… appreciation, my adoration. Maker only knows how much I adore you…“ Managing to steady his voice, he continued, “… and I thought this might be one such opportunity. If I’m wrong, however, if the thought of another man isn’t… enticing, just forget about what I said…” he caught her slight reaction, “but in case that is indeed a-a… fantasy you might have harboured, I’d be very happy to…”

She interrupted him with a light kiss, soft and far more innocent than what he was proposing. Stroking his hair, she grinned at him. “I wouldn’t say it’s not _enticing_ , exactly. But why propose this now, and why him?”

Cullen smiled back, a full smile, and one more sheepish than normal. “I guess now’s as good a time as any to be a bit… daring, with the tear in the sky closed and all. As for King Alistair…”

Her eyebrow went up again. “As for King Alistair…?”

He shrugged. “As I said, he’s a good man. I’d rather watch _him_ … with you than some mask-doting Orlesian fool.”

Trevelyan was grinning widely now. “So you’d like to _watch_ , would you?”

Cullen’s hand was back at his neck, rubbing fiercely as he scrambled for words. “I- that’s not why I was suggesting…”

Her lips cut him off once more, this time with a muffled giggle.

They made love again before falling into a quiet sleep- not, however, without Cullen promising to speak to the king the following day.


	2. Practice

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The build-up: Cullen. Alistair. Topless sparring. A flushed Inquisitor.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A heartfelt thanks for all the kudos and comments, they’re a real encouragement.  
> This was going to be a 2-part story until [this](http://greendelle.tumblr.com/image/108970721011) scandalously amazing picture by Greendelle happened.  
> SFW- next chapter won't be.

Cullen was scratching the back of his head, struggling to find the right words. Not that that was a first, especially not with matters regarding the Inquisitor. Some situations, however, were even more awkward than others. Such as when one had summoned the ruler of one’s home country to propose a _ménage a trois_ with one’s beloved. 

King Alistair was standing across from him at the War Table, cheerful as usual. They’d made their small talk, and Cullen knew the subject could no longer be avoided. 

“So what was it you were going to ask me, Commander?” the king prompted. 

Cullen managed to look him straight in the eye. “A favour, if Your Majesty will allow. On behalf of the Inquisitor and myself.” 

Alistair chuckled. “Certainly. As long as it doesn’t involve any magic sex rites or inappropriate uses of fine cheese,” he quipped. 

Cullen swallowed. 

______________________________________

Trevelyan was hungry but couldn’t quite concentrate on the food in front of her. Despite the constant activity and noise around the Great Hall, she was deep in thought. And apprehensive. 

When she’d left for lunch with the other two women, Cullen and King Alistair had stayed behind in the War Room. She knew exactly what they were talking about right at this very moment. 

As daunting as it had seemed at first, the prospect of being desired and pleasured by not one but two men- _fine specimens at that_ \- was beginning to appeal to her. Cullen had been right- she did like King Alistair and could not deny a certain attraction to him. He was of similar build to Cullen, appeared to be in good shape and even the undeniably stressful years on the throne had been kind to his features. Not to mention his voice- something she appreciated in both men. 

Trying not to giggle like a young girl, she shifted uncomfortably on the long bench. 

“Are you all right, Inquisitor?” Josephine’s voice came from across the table. 

Suddenly Trevelyan found herself imagining the ambassador’s reaction if she found out what the two men were currently discussing. The Inquisition’s military commander ( _of all people!_ ) propositioning the king of Ferelden, on behalf of the Herald of Andraste- _far too much for poor Josie to handle. No_ , she concluded. Whatever the outcome of the conversation, it had to remain strictly confidential. 

“I’m fine, thanks,” she was quick to respond, smiling reassuringly. 

And what about King Alistair himself? Despite Leliana’s thorough reports ahead of his visit, Trevelyan didn’t know enough about their guest to be able to predict his response. 

Sure, he was the sole ruler of Ferelden. After losing his love during the Fifth Blight, he’d opted not to wed the previous queen-consort- an admirable but risky decision which left him without any prospects of an heir. In the currently unstable political climate, his rule was fragile and vulnerable to any potential usurpers. 

She sighed. There she was bemoaning _her_ political responsibilities- never mind the pressure the king had to find himself under all the time. 

Could he see their _invitation_ as a welcome deviation from every day matters? Or would he be completely appalled, whatever that might do to their ongoing negotiations? 

Listlessly picking at her bowl of stew, she found herself glancing towards the corridor leading to the War Room. 

What _was_ taking them this long, anyway? 

______________________________________

It was King Alistair’s turn to scratch the back of his head. “I didn’t realize this was the Inquisition’s version of friendly diplomacy. Had I known, I’d have brought the black leather armour,” he said with a wry smile. 

“Your Highness, I hope my suggestion didn’t offend you. If it is not to your liking, please indicate so and we’ll never speak of this again,” Cullen offered. 

Alistair walked around the table, arms folded across his chest. When they were standing face to face, he sized Cullen up carefully before speaking again. 

“How do I know this is not a trap, some sneaky plot to get me into a compromised position? Then in the middle of this… _debauchery_ , a bunch of Orlesian spies come jumping out of the corner, cackling madly?” 

Looking him straight in the eye, Cullen said, “All I can offer is my honest word that there is no ulterior motive. If it means anything, you might remember I was once with the Order, just like yourself. I’m still Andrastian and have no interest in lying to you. Also, it is not just Your Majesty’s integrity at stake here. If this… _arrangement_ were to be uncovered, the Inquisition’s reputation would suffer greatly. Not to mention that of Lady Trevelyan and my own.” 

The king nodded, but he wasn’t finished questioning him. “Fair enough. But then why _are_ you asking? This is, of course, assuming you don’t make these kinds of proposals to all your visitors.”

Cullen nodded apologetically. “You assume correctly. I’ve never requested this of anyone. In fact, the Inquisitor had the same question…”

“So this is your idea?”

Nodding, he went on, “It is indeed. I guess I would like to do something special for the Inquisitor- something she hasn’t experienced before and won’t do again. Something she might treasure the memory of. As for Your Majesty- I thought you might be her type”, he added, a hint of red creeping up his cheeks.

Ignoring the last comment, King Alistair continued his questioning. “So what’s your relationship with the Lady Inquisitor? Do you love her?”

Cullen blinked at the emotion suddenly welling up in his chest. “Like I’ve never loved anyone before,” he said with all of his sincerity.

He saw the king’s expression change, as if he could relate, and the faintest hint of sadness washing over his features. 

After what seemed an eternity to the poor commander, a small smile made its way onto Alistair’s face, and his eyes lit up with a hint of mischief. Making a step towards Cullen, he held out his hand.

“Let’s make this enjoyable for her, then.”

______________________________________

When the door opened, she nearly leapt off the bench. As the two men were making their way towards her table, Trevelyan tried reading their faces but couldn’t get anything from their nonchalant smiles.

While the king engaged Leliana and Josephine in chit-chat, she was able to pull Cullen aside.

“So…?”

“So…?” he smiled back innocently. 

“Cullen- what _did_ he say?!” she pressed, slightly unnerved.

“Just be at your quarters after dinner,” he smirked.

“At my quarters- so he said yes…?” _That wasn’t supposed to come out quite as high-pitched_ …

The smirk remained. “See you for the afternoon session?”

“Wait, are you not having lunch…?”

“I was just going to show His Highness around Skyhold a bit more. You finish up here, and we’ll see you later.” He briefly cupped her cheek in his hand.

And with that they were off, leaving Trevelyan staring after them. 

So this was going ahead. She swallowed hard.

 _Better finish this food then_ , she thought. _Might just need the energy later_.

______________________________________

She didn’t get to leave the Great Hall for almost another hour after that. As tended to happen, several people had approached her about different issues –supplies, renovations, gossip even-, and as always she’d lent everyone her ear for as long as needed.

Now, however, it was time to catch up with the others to continue the day’s business- _ahead of the pleasure_ , she couldn’t help thinking.

As she stepped out onto the stairs, the bright sunlight hit her face, and the searing afternoon heat crept up her skin. Shielding her eyes, she had a look around as she walked towards where Leliana and Josephine had headed a while ago. The courtyard was bustling with people running errands, merchants haggling with customers and fragments of conversations echoing off the walls. 

When she got closer to the tavern, she noticed a gathering around the main sparring ring. There was cheering, excited talking, and- _was that Varric taking bets_? In the front row she spotted her advisors at the barrier, right where…

 _What in the void_ -

… where Ser Cullen Rutherford, commander of the Inquisition’s forces, and His Highness King Alistair Theirin of Ferelden were sparring.

Shirtless.

Trevelyan took a moment to regain her composure. When she did, she made her way through the crowd towards the two women. “What exactly is going on here?”

Josephine’s hands were covering her eyes, and she was peeking out between her slender fingers. “They’ve been at this for about half an hour now. I’ve been trying to get them to stop, but they just won’t listen to me”, she complained, wincing at the sound of weapons clashing.

Leliana chuckled. “Josie, I keep trying to tell you- to the untrained eye, it looks like they're really going at it, but they’re not. They’re not even using real swords! Besides, Commander Cullen would know better than to hurt a visiting monarch.”

The Antivan wasn’t convinced. “I’m aware that Ser Cullen is a seasoned warrior and an expert at melee combat. I also know that both of these men are trained Templar knights. Still, I would prefer not having to explain any injuries to the Fereldan court, no matter how minor or accidental.”

Ignoring their exchange, Trevelyan examined the scene more closely.

Leliana was right. Though the two men were moving swiftly around the sparring area and taking wide swings at each other, she noticed how they would take the power out of a blow just before their weapons collided. This was just a show fight.

And quite the show it was indeed. 

With Cullen wearing just his boots and cotton trousers and King Alistair in breeches and shoes, neither man had any reason to be shy. She’d never tire of looking at Cullen’s taut but not bulky form; just as she’d suspected, however, the king had kept in fine shape as well. As the people continued to roar and bellow around them, the two men were dancing around one another with the grace of experienced warriors, carefully parrying each other’s strikes. She couldn’t help but notice the king’s tight abdominal muscles, or the flexing of Cullen’s bicep when he raised his sword up high.

Trevelyan felt a flush spread from her ears all the way down to her chest. It had to be right at that moment, of course, that they noticed her. 

“Lady Inquisitor,” Alistair called out, never missing a beat. “How lovely to see you!” She could have sworn they exchanged a quick grin.

Suddenly the pace of the match picked up, as did the noise around them. “Come on, Your Gingerness! I’ve got my gold on you!” she could hear Varric shout. 

Whereas the match had been energetic but controlled before, it was taking on a new level of competitiveness now. The clanking of the wooden swords and shields became louder, moves more exaggerated and dramatic, and the play of light and shade across those muscular torsos was accentuated by groans and hisses. There was a boyish enthusiasm radiating off these two now, a rare but pleasant sight as far as Cullen was concerned.

It was then that Trevelyan realized they were putting on this display for her. Showing off the prize she was to claim later.

With the flush still very much in place, her mouth was beginning to feel quite dry and she could no longer feel her legs. 

She turned away from her advisors so they wouldn’t notice her state. Hoping her legs wouldn’t betray her, she went to make an exit. Then the crowd suddenly erupted in a single huge cheer, and Trevelyan spun back to see what had happened.

Cullen had just yielded to the king ( _on purpose_ , she couldn’t help thinking), and everyone was excitedly applauding the winner. 

“Thank the Maker, it’s over!” Josephine exhaled, visibly relieved.

As bystanders were still watching, Cassandra entered the sparring ring with a few recruits, motioning for the two men to make room. “Move along, people! The show is over”, she barked. 

Predictably enough, Varric’s voice sounded from the other side. “Come on, Seeker, gotta admit you enjoyed it!” Just as predictably, a disgruntled noise was the only response he got.

“Well, maybe not, but our Inquisitor sure did, eh?” With the attention suddenly on her, Trevelyan froze in horror as Cullen and Alistair made their way towards her. 

“Did you enjoy your lunch?” the commander asked, still slightly out of breath. 

She didn’t get any further than “I-I…” as the Iron Bull interrupted their conversation. “So Your Highness was also a Templar, then?”

This caught King Alistair’s interest. “I was indeed. How did you know?”

“I’ve an eye for these things. Name’s Iron Bull, commander of the Chargers. It’s an honour.” The two men shook hands.

The conversation faded out as Trevelyan took in the sight in front of her.

Cullen was holding his sword flat against his thigh while King Alistair was half-leaning on his. Both men were broad and strong, with the king being of a slightly softer frame than his sparring partner. As much as she tried to concentrate on either of their faces, she found her eyes roaming over the outline of their shoulders, the powerful stretch of their arms, the rise and fall of their chests. She traced each of Cullen’s scars, thin and white against his sallow complexion. Then she counted the freckles on Alistair’s upper arms, prominent on the elegant porcelain skin. Also, she was now close enough to see the tiny beads of sweat gathering in Cullen’s fine chest hair and those below Alistair’s round navel, following that almost invisible strawberry-blonde line down to his—

“Inquisitor?” 

“Yes?!” Her gaze shot up towards the king’s full lips- _no, his eyes_! Had her cheeks been burning like this all along?

With Cullen smirking beside him, he repeated, “Competent use of one’s _pommel_ is indeed most desirable, wouldn’t you agree?” As he was speaking, his fingers were wrapped around his sword’s grip, his thumb tracing small, slow circles around the top of the round knob.

Speechless at the blatant innuendo, Trevelyan helplessly watched as a servant handed each of the men a tankard of water. She recognized the look Cullen shot her as he took a sip, letting some of the liquid run out of his mouth. When his tongue darted out to lick up the drops, she felt a twitch between her legs, and a familiar heat began to spread through her body.

When Alistair poured the contents of his own tankard right over his head, water running down his naked torso, her fluster turned into anger. _How dare they tease her like this in public_! She turned to leave.

“Something the matter, boss?” Bull wondered, completely oblivious to what was going on.

Not bothering to respond, she found Josephine, who was still talking to Leliana at the now-empty spectating spot. “I’m going to have to retire for the afternoon”, she said.

“Oh? Is something the matter?” her confused ambassador asked.

“I’m afraid this heat has left me feeling a bit light-headed”, she lied.

“Is that the heat coming from the sky or from our commander’s abdominal muscles?” her spymaster inquired, a red eyebrow raised in amusement.

“It’s probably nothing, but I don’t want to take any risks”, she responded as calmly as possible. “Also, I’m sure Commander Cullen will keep our royal guest well entertained.”

The agitation in her voice wasn’t lost to the two other women, who shot each other a quick look before smiling back at her.

“As you say, Inquisitor”, Josephine dismissed her politely.

“Have a good rest”, Leliana added.

As she strode back towards the keep, she thought she could hear King Alistair call after her, “See you later, Lady Inquisitor!”

______________________________________

By the time she stepped out of the heavy stone tub she felt better. The hot water, scented oils and the familiar enclosure of her private bath chambers had done wonders to help her relax.

Drying herself down with a soft cotton towel, she laughed quietly at the two _sparring partners_ , exposing themselves for everyone to see only to get her all flustered. And succeeding rather marvellously.

Now that her anger had worn off, she was happy to have seen this playful, cheeky side to Cullen. If nothing else, whatever was going on between the three of them seemed to help him get his mind off the more serious aspects of their work.

She slipped into a fresh pair of red cotton smalls then put on one of Cullen’s retired shirts that she’d started using as a nightgown. Sighing, she stretched into the oversized garment, his scent of sandalwood and musk engulfing her. She was still awed at her lover’s idea and the magnitude of the gesture. Their bedroom endeavours certainly weren’t in need of any spicing up as such, so there’d been no necessity for him to do this. He was simply acting out of his never-ending desire to make her happy.

When she opened the door towards her bedchamber, the steam followed her into the room where it rose towards the ceiling, dispersing into thin clouds.

She crossed the room towards her ornate four-poster bed, the wooden floor cool against her bare feet. As she lay down, she relished the feeling of sinking deep into the ridiculously comfortable mattress.

As soon as she’d draped the light summer blanket over herself, she could feel herself relaxing just enough for a quick nap ahead of dinner- _and whatever else may follow_. 

With images of her two topless Templars playing in her head, Trevelyan nodded off.

______________________________________

When she opened her eyes again, she gasped in shock, sitting up rapidly.

_What was going on …?_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Dedicated to the Cullenites, who've truly broken the Internet with their delightful madness.
> 
> Like, yeah? Leave kudos? Because gratitude.


	3. Play

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Cullen, Quizzie, Alistair. In bed together.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [NOW WITH ART!](http://cullenstairshenanigans.tumblr.com/post/117171674348/yuhimebarbara-afterglow-picture-commissioned-by) By the lovely Yuhime
> 
> Left kudos or comments? Thank you for making this happen.
> 
> Tried to keep it classy, because these are classy lads. Still NSFW, detailed and juicy. Enjoy. You deserve it.

Trevelyan was sitting up in her bed, panic turning into confusion as she looked around her quarters.

Drapes all around the large chamber had been pulled closed, shutting out any natural light. Instead the room was being illuminated by a sea of pale white candles of all shapes and sizes, dotted around pieces of furniture and lining the corners of the room. The flicker of the countless little flames was creating a play of light and shade that gave the scene a cosy, almost festive feel.

Before she could get up to investigate, the two perpetrators stepped out of the shadows. Both were smiling as they slowly made their way towards the bed, allowing Trevelyan to look them up and down. King Alistair and Commander Cullen were both casually dressed. Light linen trousers were hugging slim hips and cotton shirts only halfway buttoned, giving just enough of a glimpse to make her want to see more. They were also barefooted, she noted, slender feet moving gracefully on the wooden floor.

“Good evening, Lady Inquisitor. I trust you had a good rest?” King Alistair broke the silence.

“I did, thank you. Are you picking me up for dinner, or…?” The uncertainty in her voice was mixed with anticipation, and she couldn’t supress a grin when she wondered just what they were up to now.

“Not quite, my love”, Cullen explained. “We’ve decided to relieve you of such obligations and advance the evening’s proceedings instead.” Stepping up towards her bed, he offered a hand to help her get out.

Still clad only in Cullen’s shirt, her heart started beating faster as she stood up in front of them. “Won’t there be suspicion if none of us turn up for dinner? What of you entering or leaving my quarters, even?”

“That’s all been taken care of,” Cullen assured her. “Nobody will suspect anything. In case you get hungry…,” he motioned over at her heavy wooden desk on the far side of the room. Framed by the flicker of candles, she spotted two baskets of bread and three platters with different meats and a notably large selection of cheeses, as well as what looked like a bottle of Orlesian sparkling wine and three glasses. _Still_ …

“Nobody- does that include our spymaster? I’m convinced she and Josephine were getting suspicious as soon as you both stayed behind in the War Room today.”

The king smiled, shaking his head. “That, Lady Trevelyan, is not for you to worry about.” Before she could protest, he went on, “Just trust us on this. Being former Templars, we’re well trained in, you know, keeping things secret.”

She wasn’t sure how Templar training played into this exactly but decided to trust them and nodded. “So- what happens now?” Excitement fluttered through her stomach, and she unconsciously cocked her hip up slightly.

“Right now we were hoping to share a drink with you”, Cullen said as he went to pick up the wine and glasses. Handing two of the flutes to Alistair and one to Trevelyan, he poured from the already opened bottle with his unique precision, filling each of their glasses to the exact same point.

When he was done he disposed of the bottle, took his glass and briefly rubbed his neck before speaking. “First of all, I believe an apology is in order. We got a bit carried away this afternoon. It wasn't our attention to embarrass you out there.”

“Well, a little maybe”, Alistair chimed in, “but it was all in good spirits. I hope you don’t think we Fereldan boys are all cocky skirt-chasers or something because”, his voice took on a tone of whimsical self-depreciation, “I assure you, nothing could be further from the truth- certainly where I’m concerned.” Cullen nodded his agreement before the king continued.

“In fact, despite all the audiences, visits and Maker knows what social obligations my evenings are usually a lot... _lonelier_ than this. So I guess I’d like to thank both of you for this invitation. It’s not something I’d have ever expected, and certainly not from a woman such as yourself.” To Trevelyan’s surprise, he accentuated the last couple of words by taking her hand in his and placing the softest of kisses on it, his eyes lingering on hers as he looked back up.

Goosebumps spread all over her arms, and she could feel her nipples perking up just at this faint touch.

Holding up his glass, Alistair looked at Cullen then back at Trevelyan. “A toast, perhaps?” The boyish mischief was returning to his eyes.

Trevelyan smiled, mimicking his gesture. “To Fereldan Templar boys…?” she offered.

“To _you,_ ” Cullen suggested, a sparkle in his eyes.

The three of them stepped up close, bringing their glasses together. A soft chime echoed through the room, highlighting the momentary silence as realization of what was about to happen sank in.

_This was it_ , Trevelyan thought, the three of them were going to be making love. She drank from her glass, welcoming the tart coolness. Another sip, and lightly acid warmth filled her stomach.

“So…” she said seductively, fingers trailing up and down the length of the tall, slim flute as the two men each tasted their wine.

Alistair glanced at Cullen, who nodded once. “So”, he took Trevelyan’s glass and put it aside along with his own, “I don’t think you’ll need this.” He was just inches away from her now, eyes locked on hers.

Acting completely on impulse, she brought her index finger up to Alistair’s hairline. Never breaking the stare, she slowly ran it down between his eyes, stroking the slim bridge of his nose and sliding down its tip. When she reached his mouth, he caught her digit between his lips and sucked, still looking at her intently. A little moan escaped her before she continued down his protruding chin, his Adam’s apple, the hard collarbone and finally the feather-light chest hair before she touched upon the fabric of his shirt.

Before she could start to unbutton it, she felt a warm body pressing against her from behind and two large hands grasping her waist. Cullen’s breath was hot against her neck, sending shivers down her spine. He began peppering tiny kisses along the length of her neck and she leaned into him. When he bit her earlobe, her eyes fell closed and this time her moan was louder. She sighed as she felt a hardness press into the small of her back. Finally, the tension between them was finding its release, and Trevelyan felt that moist warmth starting to pool between her thighs.

Cullen’s voice, already raspy, roused her from her musings. “Open your eyes”, he all but breathed into her ear.

Alistair had made a couple of steps backwards and was unfastening the small silver buttons on his shirt. He was still concentrated on her, his mouth half-open. There were two more buttons to open, then one, each revealing more of him. When the shirt hung off his shoulders, he carefully pulled it off one arm, then the other before letting it drop to the floor, still keeping eye contact. Trevelyan bit her lip as he unbuckled his belt then let his trousers fall around his ankles and stepped out of them.

Now just in his already tented smalls, he held out his hand, and Cullen released her into his arms. Before she could do any touching or admiring, Alistair gently spun her around, holding her close. “There’s more”, he whispered against her hair, motioning with his chin towards her commander who was now standing opposite her.

Cullen was almost glaring at her, his expression strained with raw, predatory lust. His body was so poised towards her, so tense that she felt he might pounce on her any second. Trevelyan’s breathing picked up. A thrill surged through her body at the power she had over him, bringing him to this level of arousal just by standing there in an old shirt. They stared at each other for a long moment, and she jumped when he suddenly groaned, ripped his shirt out of his trousers and tore it off above his head in a single, aggressive motion.

Still giving her that deep, dark stare, he proceeded to undo his belt. With far greater control than before – _trained control_ , she thought-, he pulled the leather strap through the loop with small, measured movements, smirking as he watched her eyes follow his hands.

She leaned back into Alistair, inhaling his scent of soap and spice. Pressing her bottom into his groin, she took great delight in the little twitches she felt as his hardness was growing against her. When his hand dropped from her waist to rub against the inside of her bare thigh, she hissed at the heavy throb between her legs.

Cullen bent down and slowly slid his trousers down his legs, carefully taking them off each foot. When he was standing upright again, Trevelyan gasped. There was a gap between his lower abdomen and the top of his smallclothes where the tip of him, purple and swollen, peeked out just far enough for her to see. He was breathing hard, his powerful chest rising and falling heavily, hands clenched into fists, and he was still looking at her proudly, possessively.

“Someone _wants_ you”, a hoarse mumble into her ear. She nodded, her voice failing her.

When he made a step towards her, she nearly leapt at him.

To her great bewilderment, Alistair gently let her go and moved towards Cullen, grasping his forearms in a loose hug.

“Watch”, Cullen ordered, his voice quietly authoritative.

Stumbling backwards into the side of the bed, she sat down, eyes wide with incredulous anticipation. Her jaw almost dropped all the way down to the Undercroft at the scene that followed.

Cullen’s expression softened, his mouth curving into a small smile. Making sure Trevelyan was watching, he hooked his left leg behind Alistair’s knee, bringing them flush against each other. He placed his hands on the other man’s shoulders and ran them down his smooth back, slowly and lightly. When he reached the king’s round behind, his fingers dipped in under the cotton smalls, and he squeezed.

Alistair’s hands went the other way, kneading Cullen’s taut bum then moving up his back, nails scraping lightly, tracing the shoulder blades, up the sides of his neck towards the blond curls.

Resting their foreheads against each other, noses touching tenderly and eyes closed, they stayed like this for a long, almost painfully sensual moment.

Trevelyan was panting, sensation lost from her limbs. All she could feel was the hot flush that had spread from her face to her torso and the nearly unbearable pulse radiating from her core. There they were- two incredibly beautiful men, pressed up so tightly against each other, caressing one another’s perfectly sculpted, naked bodies, skin bathed in warm candle light. In her keenest dreams she’d never dared to imagine anything as agonizingly erotic as this display they were putting on for her.

Then they kissed, and she moaned deep in her throat.

It started in an almost innocent manner. Alistair peeked up through hooded eyes, cupping Cullen’s jaw in his hands. Cullen’s eyes remained closed as his hands began to make their way upwards, coming to rest in Alistair’s ginger hair just as the king’s full, luscious lips opened and his tongue darted out to give Cullen’s scar a leisurely lick. Cullen responded by placing his lips on the other man’s in a feather-light kiss, sighing softly, his hips now rocking back and forth ever so gently.

It took all of Trevelyan’s efforts not to come undone right there and then. Gripping the sheet, she couldn’t help rocking her pelvis into the mattress in a feeble effort to find some relief at least.

As if they’d discussed their strategy, the men broke their embrace and closed in on her. She found herself instinctively creeping backwards on the bed, gasping when she found one man on either side of her, slowly crawling towards her, stalking her like prey. The sight of their almost comically bulged smalls only intensified her anticipation.

Turning to face the foot of the bed, she found Cullen settling in behind her, sitting up against the headboard and allowing her to lean into him.

Alistair had moved towards the foot of the bed where he was sitting cross-legged, his eyes tracing the length of her legs. She still felt like his prey that he was going to seize any moment.

Instead of ravishing her, he took her left foot in his hand, rubbing his thumb lightly across the sole. “May I?” he asked softly. A nod was all she could produce in response.

Alistair’s eyes lit up as he pressed two thumbs into her foot’s inner arch then dragged them towards her heel, maintaining a firm pressure. Trevelyan’s eyes closed over at the sensation and her head fell back to rest on Cullen’s shoulder. She felt little pecks along her jawline, down to the curve of her neck, where he bit her sharply, just as Alistair kept repeating that slow, intense motion on her foot.

_What were they doing to her…?_

When she felt her other foot being picked up and subjected to the same sweet torture, Cullen’s fingers crept up under her gown, settling on her ribcage where they traced invisible, tickly lines. Her back arched up tightly, and her fingers dug into Cullen’s muscular thighs.

Just when she thought they couldn’t possibly tantalize her any further, her commander gave another of his curt, half-whispered orders. “Look.”

She watched in awe as Alistair, eyes dark and bold, moved in slightly and brought her foot up towards his mouth. Cocking an eyebrow at her, he placed his lips upon her middle toe and sucked hard. Trevelyan moaned loudly. She’d never known that there was a connection from her toes right to her…

“ _Oh_!”

While the sucking went on, there were now thumbs playing around her nipples, and hot breath in her ear. She felt the tightness deep in her tummy begin to build up and a layer of wetness forming between her thighs.

The sucking turned into licking and she watched the pink tongue travel up the arch of her foot, above her ankle, and behind her knee. The predator was back, hot stare challenging her to resist his titillations. While his tongue was on her right leg, his fingers scraped up along the other one. The further towards her centre he got, the slicker she could feel herself growing.

When the tip of his nose grazed the hem of her shirt, he looked up at her in mock offense. “Lady Trevelyan, you’re wearing entirely too much clothing”, he teased.

Trevelyan had never taken her top off as quickly. When her upper body was bare, she watched Alistair appraise her. She could practically feel his eyes on her flesh, humming his approval when his gaze roamed over her breasts and settled on her incredibly tight nipples.

Pulling herself free from Cullen’s grasp, she sat up, trying to pull Alistair up, pin him down, to _touch_ him in some way. She shrieked when, in a flash, Cullen had pushed her hip forward, exposing her rear, and – _smack!_ \- landed a flat-handed blow on her right cheek.

“A-ah”, Cullen scolded. Pulling her back gently, he produced a dark red silken sash from out of nowhere and held it up in front of her. “I’m afraid, Inquisitor”, he ran the cool fabric over the peaks of her nipples, “we’re going to have to restrain you a little.”

Trevelyan’s initial shock quickly turned into anticipation. She trusted Cullen completely, without question. And surely having her hands tied couldn’t be all bad if it meant being at the mercy of two men on a mission to pleasure, tease and tantalise her.

She watched as Cullen held out her arms in front of her and tied each end of the scarf around one of her wrists. He left almost a foot of soft material in between so that she could comfortably lean back on her elbows, support herself- but not touch either of them.

Giving the tie a gentle pull, Cullen concluded that he was satisfied and got Trevelyan to lie back against him, nibbling on her earlobe while lazily massaging her breasts.

Grinning at his partner in crime, Alistair continued his journey up her thighs, nibbling and biting gently at the soft flesh until he reached the last bit of fabric preserving her modesty. Trevelyan sighed and closed her eyes, leaning back into Cullen and succumbing to the sweet torture she was about to endure.

Sitting back on his heels, Alistair kissed each of her thighs before placing his lips on her damp smalls, gently poking with his tongue. Trevelyan arched up into his face. Chuckling, he grabbed the waistband between his teeth and reached around her back to drag her pants all the way down her legs until they gathered around one foot.

When he placed his face between her legs again, he closed his eyes, inhaling her scent deeply. Lifting one of her legs onto his shoulder, he opened her up wide. Then he finally started licking, and she howled. He began by tracing the slick folds that hid the entrance to her womanhood. Sticking his tongue out wide, he followed them up to the top, then back down the other side, ignoring the stiff little bud in the centre. When he’d lapped at her like this for a moment, he dipped his tongue into her slit, testing the depth. Slowly moving out then thrusting back in, he build up a steady rhythm that had her writhing underneath him, mumbling incomprehensible pleas. He placed one hand on her belly, trying his best to keep her from thrusting up into him.

At the same time, Cullen kept teasing her breasts, tweaking and pinching the nipples while chewing and nibbling around her neck and ears. At this point she was but a wanton mess, her entire body humming with pleasure, completely subduing to their hands and mouths.

When Alistair’s tongue finally stroked her pearl, she almost screamed. She was close now, the pressure in her abdomen tightening, making her want to buck her hips up in search of release. The lapping soon turned into sucking, talented lips closing around her, and she felt like she was gushing now, going over the edge any second.

Then it suddenly stopped, and cold air hit where she’d been so expertly pleasured a moment ago. All she could do was moan in feeble protest as she was gently moved to lie down against the cushions. Cullen disappeared from behind her while a smiling Alistair crawled up on her left, mouth and chin glistening with her juices.

“ _De_ -licious”, he purred as he claimed her mouth in their first kiss. She whimpered as his lips – _those gorgeous lips_!- gently pried her mouth open. She allowed his tongue to mingle with hers, musky sweetness tingling her taste buds. The wicked sensation of tasting herself, and the little circles his slender fingers traced around her nipple made her forget herself in his kiss for a moment, leaning into his caress, oblivious to anything else around her.

Suddenly two strong, familiar fingers opened her up once more and filled her in one swift movement, gliding through her wet passage, and that heat began to radiate from her centre once more.

“Cullen…” she moaned. Then, just as Alistair bit down on her bottom lip, the fingers curled. At the same time her already-throbbing nub was hit with the most incredible, completely unexpected sensation- freezing cold, sharp, and prickling.

_Sparkling wine…_

Gasping in shock, her wildly bucking hips nearly hit Cullen square in the jaw. The whole length of her body wound up tight, _so tight_ , and her entire being seemed to consist of that bundle of nerves Cullen’s icy tongue was lapping at.

“Come for us”, Alistair moaned into her ear.

And she did.

Her back arched off the bed, hips thrashing wildly as Cullen continued to lick and suckle. Liquid heat poured from her core into her tummy, her toes, her nipples and the tips of her ears as she screamed out her lust. Her entire body felt on fire, pleasure surging through her every nerve. Somewhere at the back of her head she faintly heard Alistair yelp as her fingernails dug deep into his back. Still feeling her nub being teased, painfully engorged, she rode the waves of her climax, moaning helplessly, for what seemed like a blissful eternity.

Gradually the tremors began to subside, and she melted into the sheets, breathing heavily.

As she was coming to her senses, she felt a shift in the mattress, and when she opened her eyes, Cullen was smiling at her, amber eyes warm with affection. He ran his knuckles down her cheek softly. “Did you enjoy that?”

“Very much”, she just about managed to whisper.

“That’s just as well”, a familiar voice came from behind her, “because we’re not done with you yet.” She grinned and leaned back into Alistair, whose hands were sneaking out from behind her to seek out her breasts. She winced, still sensitive, and was silenced by Cullen’s lips. When his tongue found hers, she moaned softly, allowing the barely subsided heat to slowly flow through her body once more.

Her eyes fell closed and she reached behind her to grab Alistair’s hair as she felt his pelvis grind against her, the rigid erection fitting nicely between her buttocks.

As Cullen’s fingers once again pushed into her, she groaned, rocking back and forth between the two sensations. Having just found her release a moment ago, she was beginning to feel that _urge_ again, that unbelievably powerful desire they had incited in her.

“On your knees”, Alistair whispered, and she willingly complied. She vaguely registered the withdrawal of Cullen’s fingers as she turned to face the side of the bed. Getting up on all fours, she supported herself on her still-bound hands. She could feel the man behind her getting up on his knees and readying himself, and her cunt throbbed with gleeful excitement.

In front of her, she noticed how Cullen had gotten up off the bed and was just sitting down in the old armchair by the wall, facing them. Trevelyan grinned.

_So he did like to watch._ Arching her back and sticking her bum out, she was determined to make it worth his while.

The movement behind her indicated that Alistair had freed himself of his underwear, and his hand came to rest on her hip. He bent forward slightly, speaking softly into her ear.

“If I hurt you, or… if you change your mind, will you please let me know?” The sudden, almost endearing uncertainty in his voice made her smile.

“Please, Your Majesty. I need you to fuck me. Fuck me hard.” And that was all it took.

With a hoarse moan, Alistair spread her legs further apart, and she could feel him tease at her wetness. When the head of him began to push in, thick and hard, a sound escaped from low in her throat. Then he kept pushing, and she gasped.

Maker, he was _long_.

She wriggled back against him, eager to get him into her quickly. When he was fully sheathed inside her, they paused for a moment, taking long and deep breaths. Alistair placed a hand on her shoulder, squeezing gently before running it down the length of her back, tracing her spine before settling back on her hip.

As he began moving, she caught Cullen’s eyes on her. She held his gaze as she clutched the sheets, lifting her bottom up higher to meet the deliciously slow thrusts. Cullen was sitting tight, hands on the armrests of the chair. Despite his smalls looking painfully strained, he wasn’t touching himself, exercising that impressive control over himself. She could tell how aroused he was from the way his eyes were nearly black and his lips were pressed into a tight grimace. Nevertheless, he continued to simply sit there, quietly appraising her.

Licking her lips, Trevelyan held his stare and lowered her upper body slightly so that her breasts were rubbing against the sheets with each thrust. The friction on her nipples made her groan, and her insides twitched, eliciting a strangled noise from behind her. Intrigued, she clenched again, much to the same effect. Alistair’s pace picked up as he held on to her hips tightly. Nearly toppling over at the force, she moaned her approval as she relished the feeling of his hot length thrusting deep into her, hitting her secret spot so perfectly. From the direction of the wall, she thought she could hear a faint whimper. She glanced over at the armchair and grinned.

The King of Ferelden was deep inside her while she was moaning wantonly, rubbing her nipples against the sheets and exchanging lustful glances with her lover, who was watching her being thoroughly fucked by said king. She laughed quietly at the delightful obscenity of the situation. Her body was hypersensitive now, the tiniest movement and the lightest touch bringing her closer to her release.

Tensing her muscles around Alistair on every stroke now, she could feel his fingers digging into the flesh of her hips and his movements becoming more erratic.

The light press of his fingers on her button came just when she wasn’t expecting it, and she was off again.

“Yes… oh Maker, yes…”

Her voice produced incomprehensible, high-pitched noises as that all-encompassing heat spread across her body once more. White lightning exploded in her field of vision, and her insides contracted mercilessly. As she was moving her hips through the waves of her climax, she felt Alistair shudder behind her then noticed a sudden loss as he withdrew from her just before finding his own release, almost collapsing on top of her.

When her breathing was starting to return to normal, Trevelyan stretched out onto the bed, relaxing into the aftershocks. Alistair joined her, lying down on his side to face her. Spread square across the bed, blanket and sheets hopelessly dishevelled, they grinned at each other, both flushed. Alistair reached between them, and as soon as he’d untied her wrists, her fingers were exploring his chest as she finally got to touch his body. Chuckling, Alistair leaned into her, wrapping his arms around her small frame. They lay together for a brief moment before she sat up to get off the bed, Alistair watching her with a knowing smile.

Closing the distance towards the wall in a few slow steps, she came to stand in front of Cullen, who had been so closely watching, waiting. It seemed only fitting to present herself to him like this- naked as the Maker had created her, with her hair all over the place, face flushed and swollen lips curved into a smile that was happy, grateful and inviting at the same time.

Smiling back, Cullen moved to get up, but Trevelyan put a hand on his chest, pushing him back down into the chair. “Stay there”, she said softly.

Cullen cocked his head, expression unreadable, then took both her hands into his and turned her palms upwards. Closing his eyes, he pressed tiny soft kisses against her wrists where he’d tied them up earlier. Glancing back at her, he pulled her towards him, but she shook her head.

Looking into his eyes, she slowly dropped to her knees in front if the chair, running her hands over his toned calves before gently nudging his legs apart. When she’d positioned herself between them, she tugged at his underpants. “Off.”

He obliged immediately, shuffling to the front of the seat, ragged breathing betraying his relaxed demeanour. Off came his smalls, and his manhood was bobbing right in front of her face, perfectly sculpted and proudly erect.

Peeking up at him, she could now see the need in his eyes and decided not to make him wait any longer.

Placing a hand on each of his muscular thighs, she breathed in his most intimate of smells, musk, soap, a hint of sweat and- _Cullen_. She placed her tongue against him, starting at his sac and slowly moving up the length of his shaft, past the pumping vein and around the head. Cullen’s hands grasped her shoulders, and his head fell forward with a heavy sigh. She smiled around him then lapped up the bitter drops at the top with the tip of her tongue before swallowing him whole.

Cullen roared, finally losing some of that rigid control. When her head began moving up and down, he gripped her shoulders tightly, trying to steady himself to keep from thrusting into her mouth.

She smiled around him, humming her approval. As she moved up and down his length, she gave a flick of the tongue here, a touch of the teeth there, and she could feel his upper thighs starting to quiver.

A little more teasing, and his hand stroked her hair. “Please”, he said through clenched teeth. Giving one last long lick, she stood up to face him. Taking her hands in his, he helped her get up on the chair to straddle him. There was enough of a gap between the wooden armrests and the seat for her to fit her legs through, and so she sat down in his lap, his erection pulsing against her belly.

They looked at each other, hot lust in their eyes and the air between them electric. She was soaking wet once more, ready for her man.

Still looking at him, she reached out to take him in her hand as she lifted herself up. Trying to remember to breathe, she impaled herself on him, slowly, _slowly_ , her entire body shuddering in delight.

And then he is inside her and she surrounds him, and they fit together perfectly.

He is thick, _so thick_ , stretching her wide and filling her all the way up. She loves how full he makes her feel, as if he’s claiming her for himself.

Their foreheads are resting against each other and there is barely any space between them. Her breasts, heavy and swollen, are pressed right up into his chest, and her nipples rub against him with every movement. She is holding onto his neck tightly, feeling the sweat build up on his back. His hands are gripping her arse, leaving marks on the white flesh, or so she hopes. They’re so close that if she tips her pelvis forward just a little while moving, her pearl brushes against his lower abdomen with just enough pressure to make her groan his name. When she does, he catches her tongue with his, and that makes her sweet spot twitch even more. The delicious friction has them both panting, trembling.

This is their moment- slow movement, low moans, sharp hisses and warm candlelight. Right now the world consists only of him, her, their love and the sweet ache of their lust. They could stay like this forever. But they don’t.

He bends down slightly and takes one breast into each hand, feeling their weight and squeezing lightly. Then he pushes them together and flicks his tongue over both nipples, sucking them into his mouth one at a time. He loves toying with them like this, loves the feel of the soft, fleshy mounds, the hard peaks and her reactions when he touches them. His fascination with her bosom excites her, makes her feel wanted in a way that is intrinsically feminine. She sighs at his eager suckling. It resonates sharply between her legs, and she starts riding him faster, pressing her fingers into his hair.

His pelvis is now meeting hers more insistently, too, and he slaps her bottom with one hand just as she moves down on him. Her head falls down onto his shoulder, and she bites down into the curve of his neck then licks the spot to soothe it.

When he touches her mouth, she looks at him. She knows that face- he wants to make her come. Opening her mouth, she gladly takes his two fingers in, sucking them as eagerly as she’d sucked his cock a moment ago. He smiles deviously.

As she continues gliding up and down his length, his fingers begin to travel down between them. When he has reached his destination, he pulls back the surrounding skin, exposing the very tip of her clitoris. He flicks his thumb over it, two, three, times, and she yelps. Next he draws circles around it then flicks again. He’s playing her like the bard down in the tavern does her lute, and all she can do is dig her nails into his shoulders and go faster, harder.

As their breathing becomes more erratic and their movements less coordinated, he places his lips on her ear while his fingers continue working between her legs.

“My beautiful, beautiful woman. My prophet, my light”, he sighs, and she leans into the soft caress of his voice. He tells her how he’s going to fill her with his seed and how stunning she’ll look, all plump and ripe with his child. She moans and responds in kind, whispering how he is her man, her _all_ and they exchange hushed words so beautiful, so sincere that it’s like their own personal chant, for no one but them to know. A feverish prayer that ends in his name as she finally melts into him, her body all but liquefying with her release, convulsing, screaming, shaking.

Then she feels herself being lifted up and she’s on the bed, knees under his arms and he is on top of her, pounding into her like his life depends on it as she is still coming around him.

Four, five, six maddeningly deep thrusts and he joins her, calling for her, clenching his jaw, grasping her firmly. He empties himself into her in thick, white spurts, the faint promise of a new life lingering for a second. But this is now, this is them, and she holds him tightly as he collapses into her embrace.

And then everything is bliss.

______________________________________  
Cullen had his arm under Trevelyan’s back, her face cradled against his chest. Alistair was curled up on her other side, right hand resting on her stomach. She was nestled in between them, an arm around each of their necks, holding both men close. Her fingers were softly raking through both of their hair, her eyes half-closed and lips curved into a little smile. They had been quietly snuggled up like this for some time, entangled feet lazily caressing each other under the blanket. The first candles had burnt down, the faint smell of soot mixing with the scent of their sated lust.

The food sat in the corner untouched, and Cullen wasn’t sure if they would have it tonight. Not that it mattered- they would probably need a good breakfast in the morning. He pressed another soft kiss into his lover’s hair and looked down at her. Smiling at her peaceful expression, he stroked her left cheek with his free hand. She purred softly in approval.

Encouraged, he allowed his fingers to slowly run down the side of her jaw, along her neck and down to her chest. He placed a tender, open-mouthed kiss on her forehead while his hand sneaked sideways to cup her breast, giving it a testing squeeze. With her eyes still just half-open, she tried to turn away from his touch, only to find Alistair’s hand slipping under the blanket. When she groaned in protest, Cullen didn’t need to guess where it had travelled.

“Aren't you tired?” she mumbled incredulously, looking at Alistair then back towards him.

Cullen’s smile widened, and he pinched her nipple in response. Judging from her reaction, Alistair’s fingers weren’t resting either.

“Just where is all this… _stamina_ coming from?” she asked in mock exasperation.

The two men shot each other a quick glance then replied in unison.

“Templar training…?”

They laughed.

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Like, yeah? Leave Kudos? Because gratitude.
> 
> Dedicated to the Cullenites, who have truly broken the Internet with their delightful madness.


	4. Epilogue - Sweet wake

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sun and smiles on the morning after.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Bit stuck with chapter 2 of the proper sequel, [Occasions](http://archiveofourown.org/works/3780355/chapters/8406676), so wrote this instead. Productive frustration I guess.  
> Just a little companion-piece drabble. Still enjoyable hopefully.

The morning sun’s warm kiss on her cheeks was the first thing Trevelyan noticed as she stirred out of the Fade and back into hazy consciousness. Yawning softly as she blinked herself awake, she indulged in a lazy stretch of her arms before taking in her surroundings, still heavy-lidded.

 

Cullen was curled up on his side to her right. Obviously caught in deep sleep, his expression was almost ethereally peaceful. His curls, in their naturally unruly state, had fallen into his forehead; his usually furrowed brow was relaxed and his mouth hung open in silent awe at an unknown dream. Trevelyan’s chest tightened with a surge of affection, and she reached out to cup his cheek, gasping when he seemed to lean into the touch and his lips curved into the tiniest of smiles. She ran her index finger over his scar then pressed a fleeting kiss onto his forehead, careful not to rouse him.

 

With recollection of last night’s events slowly setting in- along with an acute awareness of being completely nude under the light duvet-, she turned towards her left, her palm tracing a path along the ruffled sheets to find…

 

… an empty spot. _Had he already left?_

 

She sat up, the pang of disappointment quickly dissipating when she noticed the figure leaning over her desk at the far end of the room.

 

He was in his smallclothes, exposed to her curious scrutiny, back muscles playing under smooth skin as he seemed to be cutting something from last night’s impromptu buffet.

 

“Your Ma-“, she snickered before correcting herself. “ _Alistair_.”

 

Spinning around like a child caught emptying the sweets cupboard, he began spluttering in that very un-kingly manner of his. “Oh! Good morning. I was just, ah, helping myself to some bread and cheese”, he slowed down, smiling sheepishly, “well, cheese mostly. Would you like some?”

 

She cocked her head to one side as her eyes roamed down his front, taking in the light speckle of freckles on his chest, the fine dusting of hair on his strong thighs, the lean stretch of his feet.

 

She held out her hand. “I’d like you to come here.”

 

His eyes narrowed while his grin widened. “I think that can be arranged”. He swiftly crossed distance to where she was waiting for him in the sturdy Free Marches-style bed that served as her comforting reminder of home whenever she needed it.

 

Sitting down beside her, he handed her a small piece of hard cheese, which she accepted gratefully, chewing while looking at him.

 

Alistair let his voice drop. “Did you enjoy yourself last night?” Uncertainty lingered under his sultry tone, and she noticed how he wouldn’t let his gaze drop below her shoulders.

 

Trevelyan swallowed quickly, flashing him a reassuring smile. “Very much”, she whispered as she leaned in for a tentative kiss, warm and just as sweet as it had tasted hours before. Her hands closed around the back of his head, grabbing small handfuls of ginger hair while his arms wrapped around her waist as the kiss deepened.

 

When they broke away, a little out of breath, she rested here forehead against his. “Very much indeed.”

 

“How much time do we have?” he whispered against her lips.

 

Glancing at the ornate timepiece on the nightstand behind Alistair, she huffed in mild frustration. “We’ve just over an hour before your address in the main hall.”

 

“Well”, that familiar glint of mischief lit up Alistair’s face, highlighting the flecks of green in his honey eyes as he crawled across the bed to where Cullen still seemed fast asleep. “Better wake our commander then, eh?” Before she could react, Alistair yanked the covers away from the still body, revealing an invitingly bare backside- which he then smacked with his flat hand, hard enough to produce a sore, fleshy sound.

 

Cullen woke abruptly, jerking up onto his knees while his mind was taking longer to find its way back into an alert state.

 

Blinking in drowsy confusion, he stared back at the two of them for a moment. Trevelyan was covering her mouth, trying to supress her giggle. “Good morning, my dear”, she offered.

 

Cullen’s back straightened as he ran a hand through his hair, his eyes widening for a second as recollection began to set in- along with anticipation.

 

He relaxed, sitting back on his heels, naked as the Maker had created him, and cleared his throat.

 

When he spoke, his eyes lit up with a smile as bright as the sun itself.

 

“Good morning.”

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Now back to that other chapter [disgusted noise].  
> [Tumblr](http://cullenstairshenanigans.tumblr.com), if you're into that sort of thing.

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading!  
> [Find me (and the boys) on Tumblr!](https://http://cullenstairshenanigans.t%20Tumblr.com) ʘ‿ʘ

**Works inspired by this one:**

  * [Shield Mates](https://archiveofourown.org/works/3698180) by [sophe](https://archiveofourown.org/users/sophe/pseuds/sophe)




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